My Girl
by FlashFiction
Summary: Augusta Longbottom and Minerva McGonagall had a long and complicated relationship. A collection of drabbles written for the Femslash Drabbleathon at the HPFC forum. Not in any sort of chronological order.
1. Teacup

**Minerva/Augusta – Prompt Teacup**

"Augusta, if I had wanted to drink average tea in complete silence, I would've stayed home," Minerva said flatly, breaking what had become a long pause.

The witch's dark eyes gazed quizzically across the rim of the cup, resting on her current companion who sat in a similar chair to her own on the other side of an ornate coffee table. Augusta Longbottom was incredibly thin, her long legs crossed and clothed in sensible stockings. The paleness of her ageing skin was accentuated by the almost glowing whiteness of her hair, which was piled dramatically on the top of her head. There was an aristocratic air about her, even when her polished accent couldn't be heard, with her string of pearls and arrogant brown eyes. Right now, there was also an air of danger.

Augusta put her cup down with a sinister clink.

"I thought we would finish our refreshment," she said cooly, "before I tore you apart."

Minerva smirked in an uncharacteristically mean way.

"You haven't got the teeth anymore."

The other witch's eyes narrowed.

"You told my grandson that I failed charms," Augusta breathed.

Minerva raised an eyebrow and replied simply, "you did."

"What I choose to tell Neville about my life is my own business," Augusta's voice sounded slightly strained.

The transfiguration teacher was quick to hit back.

"And the choices Neville makes about his future are my business," she snapped, "Yours too, if you would wake up a little."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Augusta hissed.

"He's not his father," Minerva replied.

"What is that supposed to mean!"

"Stop trying to turn him into Frank!"

Minerva had jumped to her feet, something she instantly regretted when she heard the sound of shattering china. Her cup had fallen to the floor, the dregs of her tea staining the carpet through the shards of now broken pottery. She looked apologetically at Augusta, who was frozen in her chair.

"Augusta, I-" Minerva began.

"- Alice gave me those," Augusta said, staring intensely at the coffee table, "the summer before it happened."

"I know," Minerva said softly, "I know, I'm sorry."

She bent down and began to pick up the pieces.

"Don't," Augusta said softly, "You'll cut yourself."

"I'd deserve it," Minerva whispered.

Augusta rose from her chair, a look of concern on her face. She knelt down Minerva and started to pick up the green shards. Both witches went for the last piece, the handle fully intact, and their hands touched, slightly wrinkled fingers dusting over each other. There was a moment of stillness.

"When did things change," Augusta's voice was hard, almost cracking, "so that all we can do is hurt each other?"

Minerva sighed, raising her head to stare into those all too familiar brown eyes.

"I wish I knew."


	2. Picking Flowers

**Prompt: Picking Flowers**

"This is inane."

Minerva followed Augusta through the lush garden, her arms folded. The later did not turn around, instead leaning in to cut the stem of a newly flowered sweet pea with her pruning shears.

"So you've said," Augusta replied, a small smile dancing on her lips.

It amused her to see the usually dignified women in a state of childlike protest. She offered Minerva the shears, indicating the flower she was to cut. Minerva begrudgingly took them and, taking no care at all, made a rough and ragged snip.

"I rescued you from that tartan prison you call an office," Augusta said flatly, "but I can send you back there for the rest of the summer, if that is what you wish."

"No," Minerva sighed, "I'm sorry."

"Once more, with feeling," Augusta trilled.

Her companion said nothing and glared. Augusta just laughed, the sound one of ice-like clarity.

"You wanted to meet my friends, be involved," she reminded the other witch, "Well, I'm sorry, but this is what I do with these particular friends. We meet and arrange flowers, and I don't care what you think, because I am too excited about shoving my roses in Shirley Mendelson's smug face."

Minerva's face lightened.

"So it's floral warfare?" she asked teasingly.

Augusta laughed again.

"Something like that."

A moment of silence passed, Minerva watching as Augusta continued to work. Inane as she declared it to be, the witch found something rather captivating about the care her hostess took with the task. Augusta's brown eyes darted back and caught Minerva staring.

"Until I can read your mind, sweet thing," she said softly, "I must content myself to ask for your thoughts."

Minerva rolled her eyes at the language, though there was a slight flush in her cheeks. Then she looked serious.

"What do your friends think?" she asked bluntly, "About us?"

"About me bringing home my grandson's ex-teacher?" the other woman joked.

"I'm serious," the ex-teacher said.

Augusta frowned slightly, pulling herself back to her full height, only a few centimetres shorter than Minerva.

"I think most of them always knew, even when I was married, that I was equally attracted to women," she mused.

"Fewer," she added, "picked that I had a lasting chip on my shoulder."

Pausing, Augusta gazed at Minerva, tracing her face with her eyes as she did whenever it truly hit her that this magnificent person was in her life.

"I'm not sure how many realised," she breathed, "that the chip was shaped like you."

Reaching out, Augusta gently placed her fingers on Minerva's chin, slowly raising it so that her lover's head was held high. Then she took the first sweet pea flower she had cut and tucked it behind the woman's ear.

"Perfect," Augusta smiled, "The best arrangement I've ever done."

Minerva tried to look cynical, but could not. Tenderly, Augusta took her hand.

"Come," she said, "There is much to be done."

And Minerva was less reluctant to follow.


	3. Sunset

**Prompt: Sunset. The poem Minerva quotes is "Bright Star" by Keats.**

The evening was warm. Minerva and Augusta sat on a bank overlooking the countryside that surrounded the Longbottom home.

"Bright star, would I were steadfast as thou art —Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night, and watching- Augusta, are you even listening?"

"Mmm."

Minerva shut the book she had been quoting with a snap.

"You are not."

Augusta had been staring off into space, but the sound of the book made her start. She looked to her companion.

"Sorry, Darling, what did you say?"

Minerva gave an exasperated but fond sigh.

"Nothing," she said.

The greying-haired witch put the text down on the grass beside her and watched the other woman return her gaze back to the view. The setting sun gave off a light that caressed her face and, Minerva noted, made her look much younger than her seventy-odd years. Halo, might've been the word, had Minerva not known Augusta Longbottom much better. She knew her very well, for many years, and in all that time there wasn't a moment, it seemed to her, where the elegant, white haired beauty had looked more serene.

"Pray tell, what is more captivating than Keats?" Minerva asked after awhile.

Augusta lazily turned and gave a smile. She wriggled in an awkward way across the grass to sit closer to Minerva, the movement proving just how laid-back she was. The Scottish witch almost laughed, it was so endearing. She didn't say anything at all, her whole body tensing, when the other woman gently rested her head on her shoulder.

"You are," Augusta whispered, snuggling in closer.

Minerva scoffed, rolling her eyes. Augusta laughed and wrapped her arms tightly around her lover's body.

"Just for once, Minvera," she said, "I would like you to believe me when I'm telling you how phenomenal you are."

"The sunset has gone to your head," Minerva replied sharply.

"You go to my head," Augusta shot back, "Every single day."

She pressed a kiss into the crook of Minerva's neck, savouring the warmth, before placing another, then another. Minerva's eyes fluttered closed and she breathed in deeply.

"Keep reading," Augusta muttered between kisses.

"Are you going to listen this time?" Minerva said breathily, her eyes still closed.

"Probably not. You're a terrible distraction."

And the book was knocked aside as Minerva cupped Augusta's cheek and pulled her kisses onto her own lips.

The sun went down. And neither of them noticed.


	4. Darkness

**Prompt: Darkness**

"It is a vote of confidence," Augusta was saying as she paced about the room like a general, "that I am allowing my grandson to return to Hogwarts."

"It's also the law," Minerva cut in, "though I can't say that's ever really mattered to you."

Augusta chose to ignore her and continued to walk. The Scottish witch's dark eyes followed her about, wondering exactly why she had been summoned to the Longbottom home.

"In times of darkness, such as these," Augusta continued, her language becoming more grandiose by the minute, "people will be tempted to shirk their responsibilities, to slink away in cowardice. But this family has never done that. Despite the risk, we face danger head on and show our support to you and to your fellow teachers who remain under Snape's rule."

Minerva nodded, appreciative of the sentiment, though not sure it had warranted her making such a long journey on such short notice.

"This is an excellent speech, Augusta," she said, "but can I ask why it needed to be said at this late hour?"

The slightly older woman stopped her pacing, the aristocratic head held high. It was an impressive sight, but Minerva could sense that beneath the exterior something was wavering.

"I just wanted to assure you that I know what I owe your school," the words were slightly clipped.

"Right," Minerva said skeptically, "Thank you. Anything else?"

Augusta gave a small sigh that she had obviously been fighting against and Minerva knew that there was.

"The Longbottom name is one that has existed proudly for many years," the great lady of the house said quietly, "It has stood for all that is right in this world for all that time, and it is imperative that it continues to do so. My grandson is future of his name and it is of great importance to me that he be able to-"

"-say it like a human being, Augusta," her companion interrupted.

"Keep him safe!" Augusta shouted out suddenly.

The tremble in her voice was a great shock to the other woman, even as she had begun to unravel her motives. The Transfiguration professor sat stock still, unsure how to answer the terror that had briefly exposed itself.

"I will do as much as I can," Minerva eventually said, "We all will, of course."

Augusta's eyes were wide.

"Minerva," her voice was shaky and low, "he is all I have left."

Here was a woman who had had so much taken from her by the shadows, Minerva could see it now. Augusta, beautiful, Augusta, who did all she could to hide it from the world. In that moment, Minerva knew she would whatever it took to spare her from further pain.


	5. Bubbles

**Prompt: Bubbles**

Augusta did not often do the dishes without magic. But Hannah Abbott, the young woman who would soon marry Neville, was used to doing them with her Muggle father and suggested maybe it would be a good way for Augusta and her to get to know each other. The older witch had initially not seen the point of this, but she had to admit that she had come to enjoy their evening chats over the soap bubbles and crockery. Right now they were discussing nicknames.

"Neville calls me Monkey," Hannah said, picking up a spoon and polishing it with a tea towel.

Augusta, who was making an attempt to pull up the sleeves of her old cardigan using her teeth so she didn't have to remove the rubber washing gloves, mumbled a reply.

"Adorable," she clarified when she had fixed her sleeves, "And what do you call him?"

"Idiot, mostly," Hannah grinned.

"As a joke!" she added hastily.

But Augusta laughed, reassuring her.

"Do you and Minerva have any cute nicknames?" Hannah asked with the relish that one had when they were about to learn a massive secret.

Augusta thought about it as she rinsed a teacup.

"No," she replied honestly.

"Seriously?" Hannah said incredulously, "What do you call her when you're teasing her?"

"Minerva," Augusta replied, because that was the truth.

She didn't need to use silly names to wind Minerva up. The Scottish witch was fiery enough.

"Well, what about when you're alone?" Hannah said with a smirk.

"Minerva," was the answer again.

"No," Hannah interjected, "I mean, like, when you're _alone_ alone."

It was a bold question, one she wasn't sure she'd get an answer for.

"Minerva," Augusta shrugged and Hannah scoffed disbelievingly.

"But I say it with sex eyes," the older woman added.

Hannah almost dropped the plate she had been holding and started laughing. Augusta joined in.

"Does Neville know you talk like that?" the blonde asked.

"Lord, no!" Augusta said emphatically, "I don't think he'd recover, do you?"

It was then that Minerva and Neville entered the kitchen. Minerva paused by the sink.

"Augusta, you have bubbles on your face."

Augusta gave a small smile as the other older woman carefully wiped the soap from her cheek.

"Minerva," she said, carefully accentuating each syllable.

The dark-haired witch raised an eyebrow, as her eyes met those of her lover, their gaze holding. Minerva then turned and walked out of the room. Augusta watched her go, her lips slightly parted. Then she peeled off the rubber gloves and followed, leaving Neville and Hannah standing there.

"What was that?" Neville asked. "Legitimate grandma porn," Hannah responded, a look of awe on her face.

Neville was scandalised.


End file.
